


the mirror never wants to show you the monster (but it's staring back at you)

by catteo



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Chair Sex, F/M, oral sex is the best way to say sorry, something new and interesting for them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4289646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catteo/pseuds/catteo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ali wrote a thing where the OT4 make their way back to each other: <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4175043">all these words and promises we couldn't keep</a></p><p>In which Skye drags Ward down to the vault in order to have a conversation. Like many of my best works, this is a result of her <s>telling me to</s> suggesting that I write the missing scene.</p><p>So this is the one where Skye and Ward make up. He's wearing a black henley. She's got residual truth serum running through her veins and, spoiler alert, then they bang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the mirror never wants to show you the monster (but it's staring back at you)

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to you, my people, Skyeward trash for life.
> 
> Hi Brett.

“So, Ward, the cameras are off. We’re alone. Well, I mean, as alone as you can ever be on a base surrounded by a hundred other people. Which I suppose isn--“

 

“Are you nervous?” Ward interrupts Skye’s rambling with raised eyebrows and a smile that, really, she’s going to have to call disbelieving. She’s more amused than she probably should be that she’s managed to keep up her façade of calm for this long. Or, perhaps, it’s just that he’s been too cautious to say anything up until now. Until he can be sure that it’s only the two of them. She’s still trying to work out why she’s constantly dealing with some watered-down version of Ward these days. One who never tries to fight back when it comes to her. She’s more than ready for this conversation.

 

“A little.” Skye actually feels relieved that it’s out there, the truth floating in the air between them. She tries her hardest to ignore the voice in her head telling her that this wasn’t her choice. That she’s not ready for Ward to know everything that she’s been trying to hide for all this time. But he’s staring at her with dark eyes -- full of explanations that she’s almost given up hope of him ever saying aloud -- a look that makes her skin hot and her chest ache. Sometimes she forgets that this is how Ward’s truth always makes her feel. 

 

Skye considers crossing her eyes at him, pulling a face to break the tension that’s gradually building in the room. Anything to make him start talking. But all she can think about is the fact that nothing’s worked this far. No matter how hard she tries, she can’t seem to make Ward understand that this locked down, tightly controlled shadow of the man she knew isn't ever what she wanted. Even with the last traces of truth serum in her system she doesn’t know where to begin breaking down the walls between them.

 

“Do you hate me?” Ward says it flippantly, the question echoing through the silence of the room, as though he doesn’t care about the answer. As though she hasn’t seen the question written in every action he’s taken, in every word he’s spoken, since he came back to them. To her. As though she can’t tell that every hit he takes is some sort of attempt to apologize for choices that he can never undo. 

 

“Sometimes.” She shrugs as she says it. She’d have told him the same thing without the truth serum. The answer would have been the same if he’d asked it on any day since he first flung open the door of a van in a dingy alley in Los Angeles. She suspects it’ll be the same until one of them is in the ground, nothing more than dust, ashes and memories.

 

“Do you wish I’d never come back?” Ward crosses his arms this time. Some sort of attempt at protecting himself from the blow that he’s so sure he can see coming. He should know better than that -- she doesn’t have tells any more. After all, she learned from the best, and it’s been a lifetime since anyone has seen the girl who never really knew where she belonged. She wonders if he catches glimpses of the Skye she used to be when she’s not fast enough to hide the truth. She wonders if he knows that sometimes she slips up on purpose, when it’s just the two of them, backed into a corner. Just like the old days.

 

“Sometimes.” Skye allows the corner of her mouth to creep upwards into the smallest of smirks. She can tell from the way that Ward’s jaw clenches that she’s driving him crazy. He never was very good at dealing with uncertainties. 

 

“This is honestly the worst truth serum ever invented. Are you sure Jemma’s not lying to you?” Ward’s question comes out in a rush of air and Skye can hear the irritation bleeding into every word. What Skye wants, more than anything is to keep on going just like this. For every answer to be a non-answer, until the Ward that she knows is there, buried under layer upon layer of apology and cautious hesitation, finally appears. She just wants him to start fighting back. Give her something to aim at.

 

“Yes. I’m sure.” Skye knows that her grin is utterly obnoxious, but Ward’s looking more animated than he has in as long as she can remember and she knows that finally, finally, he’s going to stop being a robot long enough to have a conversation. “You’re just asking all the wrong questions.”

 

“And I suppose that there are right questions are there?” Ward doesn’t even seem to have realized that he’s turned around and is walking right back down the stairs towards her.

 

“Yep.” Skye pops her mouth around the last letter as loudly as she can manage. She watches Ward as he takes three steps closer to her. There’s still a distance between them that seems almost insurmountable. She can see the cracks though, just beneath the surface of his carefully constructed shell. It’s what she’s good at now. Finding just the right pieces to push so that everything falls into place. Or falls apart so that it can be rebuilt. They’ve all had plenty of practice at that.

 

“And I suppose you’re not going to tell me what they are?” Ward’s expression is a curious mixture of frustration, disbelief, and something that Skye can’t quite manage to put a name to. All she knows is that the distance between them, the one that she was beginning to feel was insurmountable, suddenly seems smaller.

 

“Nope.” Her grin is bright. A challenge that she’s sure Ward’s never going to be able to walk away from. 

 

“Of course not. That would be too easy, wouldn’t it?” Ward’s shaking his head, turning back towards the stairs, and Skye can hardly believe what’s happening. Ward’s apparently so determined not to face up to what’s happening here that he might actually walk away from this conversation. She tries not to think about the way that it feels as though he’s actually finally walking away from her. 

 

“Well, obviously. Nothing can ever be easy with us, Ward, you should know that by now.” Skye can hear the bitterness in her own voice. 

 

Ward doesn’t pause, just keeps heading for the stairs, drawing further away from her with every second. She’s so angry with him that she can almost feel the ground vibrating under her feet. Ward comes to an abrupt halt as the tablet that Skye had placed so carefully on the seat behind her, spins past him and shatters on the stairs. She sees his hands curl into fists as she sends the chair flying after it. She knows how to speak this language too when it comes to him.

 

“Do I have to remind you which of us stood in this very room and promised to always tell the other the truth?” To his credit, he doesn’t even flinch when she hurls the words at him. Skye can barely focus on anything other than her need to make him stop and listen to her. For once. Relief rushes through her as his hands unfurl and he turns to face her. 

 

“Whatever else I’ve done, Skye, I swear that I haven’t lied to you since I made that promise.” His voice is quiet, a desperate tone that Skye hasn’t heard in forever. A memory of soft hands sliding through her hair, the taste of whisky and him almost steals her breath. He may not have a jacked-up serum running through his veins, but Skye believes him.

 

She’s walking across the room before she registers what she’s doing. Her finger jabbing him in the chest in some bizarre re-enactment of their first meeting, and it would be hilarious if Skye wasn’t suddenly so furious. She’s not the one who’s been tiptoeing around the other for months, pretending that there’s nothing more to say. She’s not the one who nearly destroyed themselves to prove a point to Coulson, rounding up the most dangerous people on earth and turning them into an army. Skye still remembers the look on Coulson’s face when they walked into his office to find Ward, sitting at the desk with a stack of files and a look of determination, announcing that he was ready to make a deal. Somehow the memory of the relief that she knew she shouldn’t be feeling is enough to make her even angrier.

 

“Well, you know what, Ward?” She adds a surge of power as she taps him again, smirking as he stumbles backwards three paces. “You’re on pretty shaky ground with that one. I don’t know if you recall that whole Hydra thing?” Skye’s lost all desire to reason with the man. She’s exhausted of the way this dance goes. She just wants it to be over. Wants everything out in the open so that they can finally do something different.

 

“I didn’t even see you for eighteen months, Skye. How the hell could I have been lying to you?” He looks utterly perplexed. As though he can’t understand that the thought of him running an organization he’d told her time and again he didn’t believe in, wasn’t enough to have her doubt everything she’d ever allowed herself to hope for. 

 

“Remember when we ran into each other in Cairo?” Skye doesn’t miss the way that Ward’s eyes drift to her upper arm, tracing the lower end of a jagged scar that vanishes under the sleeve of her T-shirt. 

 

“Vividly actually.” Ward doesn’t miss a beat, his fingers curling in the hem of his shirt, pulling black cotton up to expose two white starbursts on his right side. “Remember Puerto Rico?” He’s staring at her and, for a moment, Skye struggles to breathe around the sudden ache in her chest. “Sometimes the ends justify the means.” He drops his shirt back into place, but it doesn’t stop the harsh burn in the back of Skye’s throat. Neither of them mentions India.

 

“You let me believe you hated me.” If her voice shakes slightly, he’s wise enough to pretend that he doesn’t notice. Skye doesn’t miss the way that his jaw clenches, as though he’s trying to decide how far he really wants this to go. She’s close enough that she feels the warmth of his breath drifting over her skin as he sighs. They barely train together any more, but Skye’s witnessed Ward giving in to the inevitable in her presence enough times that she recognizes the moment for what it is. When he stops fighting the inescapable.

 

“I did hate you.” There’s nothing but honesty in his voice and his eyes and it’s brutal. Skye thought that she remembered how this felt, Ward’s truths burrowing under her skin and vibrating along her bones, but she wasn’t prepared for this. For the realization that she’s not the only one whose world was ripped apart by the other. Not the only one with scars that can’t be seen.

 

Skye’s mouth is dry as she looks at Ward. He’s staring at the ground and she’s terrified that perhaps she shouldn’t have done this. Shouldn’t have used this opportunity to force him to confront everything he’s been trying so hard to avoid. But then she remembers the way that his eyes softened as he saw her lying in the med bay, the way that his voice wrapped around a memory as though it was the most precious thing in the world to him. 

 

“Sometimes?” She throws all the bravado she can muster into the word. Flinging it at him like a challenge. It’s worth it when Ward’s head snaps up, his eyes locking on hers with an intensity that steals her breath.

 

“Sometimes.” Ward doesn’t even crack a smile. He sounds exhausted rather than amused and Skye wonders if, maybe, she’s pushed him too far. The next question’s already on her lips though, and it’s too late to back out.

 

“What about now?” Skye tries her best to keep her voice light. To keep all the doubts she’s been trying so hard to contain from spilling on the ground at their feet for Ward to sift through. She knows that they already see more of each other’s broken pieces than they should. 

 

Ward doesn’t even blink. He just shakes his head slightly, but Skye’s not entirely sure that it’s meant as an answer to her question. Before she has a chance to ask for clarification he’s the one speaking. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one asking the questions?” He’s so obviously being evasive that Skye doesn’t even bother biting back her laugh. Ward’s answering smile doesn’t really reach his eyes and Skye tries her hardest not to think about the implications of that. 

 

“If you want.” Skye shrugs, aiming for nonchalance, but she knows that she’s not fooling either of them. 

 

“Do you hate me now?” He sounds genuinely curious. As though he honestly believes that every mission they’ve run where she’s trusted him to guard her six means nothing. As though she hasn’t put her life in his hands more than once. Like they’re not down in this vault because neither of them is capable of letting the other one go.

 

“Less than some days, but more than others.” It’s out of her mouth before her brain really registers what’s going on. Stupid fucking truth serum. Skye’s really is beginning to doubt the wisdom of her actions. She wonders if this is how Ward feels every time she asks him a direct question. “Truth serum’s really annoying, isn’t it?” She remembers Ward telling her that they didn’t have a truth serum. How utterly unconvincing his lies were afterwards.

 

Ward’s turning away from her again, reaching down to pick up the chair that’s blocking his way to the exit. It’s not until his face is safely turned away that he speaks. “I don’t hate you.”

 

“That’s not what I asked.” She’s relentless. The only thing is that she’s not sure whether it’s the drug still running through her veins, or that she’s been trying to have this conversation, or some version of it, for months.

 

The sound of metal on concrete hurts her ears as Ward slams the chair upright. She wonders which of them he’s angrier with. Her, for forcing him to do this, or himself for making a promise that he probably never thought she’d let him keep. “Yes, Skye, the truth serum is really annoying.” He studies the chair for a minute as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. She sees his knuckles whiten as he raises his head to look at her. “Do you believe my feelings for you were real?”

 

“No.” There’s no thought behind the word. It’s just out there, the truth slamming into him without remorse. She knows how it feels. She also realizes, with a blinding flash of relief, that she just made the choice to say no instead of yes.

 

Ward huffs out a single breath, as though it’s exactly what he’d expected. He somehow manages to settle a rueful smile on his lips, as though everything he’s ever believed hasn’t just been pulled out from under him. “Oh.” She hears hope dying in a single word. He says it like there’s no way that he can fathom that this is something that she would ever doubt. “You don’t believe that I was in love with you?”

 

Skye doesn’t falter, doesn’t pause to wait for his bitter laughter to stop. She just takes a step towards him and raises her voice. “In the interests of accuracy, you’re using past tense and honesty forces me to say no.”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Ward’s voice somehow manages to hit somewhere between staggering relief and utter outrage, and Skye doesn’t quite manage to bite back a giggle at his tone. She’s not sure he’s even realized that he’s close enough for her to touch. She has to tilt her chin up to keep her eyes on his. “This isn’t funny Skye.” 

 

“It’s a little funny, Ward.”

 

“I’m in love with you.” His hands are somehow sliding under her jaw, fingers brushing her hair behind her ears, and Skye’s fisting the cloth of his shirt in her fist, pulling herself flush against him, steadying herself on her toes. 

 

She whispers her response against his lips. “Show me.”

 

It’s been months, but Ward still tastes exactly the same, still has that hunger and need on his tongue as it slides against hers. He arches over her, one hand twisting in her hair whilst the other skips down her ribcage, a line of blistering heat under her skin, nothing like the slow burn that she remembers. Skye can feel the scratch of stubble under her fingers as she drags her nails down his neck. Skye feels the vibration of the moan he makes, lets it echo in her blood and settle in her bones. Ward slides an arm up her back, tracing fire along every nerve ending, and suddenly she can’t breathe. Somehow she manages to pull her mouth from his, only to find herself staring up into eyes dark with desire. Skye knows from the look on Ward’s face that she’s pushed this far beyond the point of no return. 

 

“Skye.” Ward’s voice is barely more than a whisper, but it’s loaded with everything she knows he wants to say. Nothing like the bitter accusations and vehement denials they’ve been throwing at each other for years. She can’t seem to find the right words to tell him that she understands. That, somehow, it always comes back to this. To the two of them breathing each other’s air.

 

Skye’s more than aware of the fact that there’s a conversation that they should be having and truths that need to be told. But there’s the smallest of smiles curling at one corner of his mouth, and Skye’s had enough of words. She feels his fingers at her waist, his grip on her tightening, and she’s suddenly struck with the thought that, even now, he’s worried that she’s going to run. Just like she used to. “I mean, it could be hours til anyone gets us out of here since you broke the tablet…”

 

“That’s how you’re going to play this, rookie? Like this is my fault?” He’s openly grinning now, pulling her closer. She can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the light dusting of freckles on his cheeks, the hope hovering at the edges of his smile.

 

“It usually is. And you’re not my SO any more.” Skye barely manages to get the words out before Ward’s mouth is back on hers, his lips firm and his tongue licking up into her mouth. Skye slips her hand under the hem of his shirt, drifting her fingers along bare skin, and swallows down his soft groan as desire unfurls, liquid gold in her veins. Before she knows what’s happening, Ward’s spinning her round, stepping them backwards until her ass hits the wall. 

 

Ward’s breath is hot, his tongue soft, teeth punctuating a line of kisses that he trails down her neck. She lets out an involuntary gasp as he sucks down hard on the skin of her collarbone. She’s sure that it’s going to leave a mark, not that she really cares, but some habits are too hard to break, and she’s scratching her nails hard across his neck almost by instinct. Ward’s voice catches as he swears against her skin, and the way it breaks around her name shoots straight to her clit.

 

She’s sure that they’re both doing it on purpose, branding each other with hands and teeth, leaving reminders that they’re going to wear for days. Proof of the choices they’ve made, out in the open, where anyone can see. Skye opens her eyes to find Ward staring down at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Four livid red lines run in parallel across his neck, a single drop of blood pooling just over where his pulse is hammering at his throat. She’s pulling him closer, soft hair under her fingers, the bitter tang of his blood, salt and iron on her tongue as she drags it across his skin. His hands grip her hips tight enough that she knows he’s leaving bruises. The taste of him is dizzying, intoxicating, and proof that neither of them was ever going to escape this. The scent of arousal hangs heavy in the air.

 

Skye feels Ward shift against her, the pressure of his hands abruptly absent, his fingers cool against the heat of her skin as he deftly unfastens her jeans. He presses soft lips to her temple, then against her cheek, just the barest hint of a kiss before he leaves her gasping in empty air, dropping to his knees in front of her. Skye looks down at him, staring up at her as though she’s the most perfect thing he’s ever seen, the truth of his feelings clear on his face, stealing her breath. 

 

“Is this what you want?” He says it gently, and Skye knows that it’s loaded with more meaning than she really wants to accept. All she manages is a nod and the barest hint of a smile in response. She tries to tell herself that she’s imagining things. That Ward doesn’t stop reaching for her, and that the deep breath she sees him take isn’t him steadying himself for a blow that’s about to land. “Skye, I need you to say it.” His voice is rough and he never takes his eyes from hers.

 

“You’re what I want.” Skye can feel the truth of it in the air between them. Ward smiles, slow, and she feels her skin flush under the intensity of his stare. She watches as he leans forwards and presses his mouth to the exposed triangle of skin below her belly button. Skye doesn’t quite manage to stop herself from sighing out his name, and she can feel him smiling against her skin. Ward’s fingers hook over the waistband of her trousers and he’s pulling the denim down over her hips, steadying her with one hand as she lifts one foot and then the other, before shoving the jeans aside. 

 

Ward slowly runs his hand up the smooth expanse of her leg, his mouth slowly following the path of his hand until his knuckles hit the crease of her thigh. He stares straight up at her as he brushes his fingers across the fabric of her panties. She’s glad of his hand at her hip, holding her firm, as her knees almost buckle at the bolt of bright longing that flashes through her. Somehow she manages to keep her eyes open long enough to see the delighted smile that lights his features at her reaction. Her eyes slide closed as he moves his face towards her and she feels the heat of his tongue against damp cotton. Her hips arch up against his mouth almost involuntarily, one of her hands fisting in his hair. She feels, more than hears, his laughter as he pulls his mouth away.

 

“You’re a fucking tease, Grant Ward.” Skye wonders if it would sound more convincing if she weren’t gasping the words out.

 

“I’ve waited a long time for this, Skye. You’ll live.” Skye’s forced to admit that the smirk he gives her only makes her want him more. Despite his words he’s slipping her underwear off in the next moment, gripping her ankle as she lifts her foot, and hooking her leg over his shoulder. He’s leaning forwards, fingers parting soft folds, and this tongue licking a broad stripe from her cunt to her clit. His stubble’s rough on the skin of her inner thigh and Skye struggles to remember how to breathe. 

 

Ward sucks gently on her clit with just the right pressure to drag a moan of satisfaction from her. He stills her hips with one hand, fingers splayed against her belly, pushing her back against the wall. She’s about to complain but then his mouth settles against her cunt, his tongue fucking up into her, and she can’t focus on anything other than the sensation of his mouth against her. Skye knows that she manages a mumbled complaint as Ward pulls his face away, cool air drifting over sensitive flesh. But it’s barely out of her mouth before Ward’s pushing two fingers up inside her, slick and hot, and flicking his tongue across her clit. Skillful fingers and his quick tongue drive her to the edge faster than she would have thought possible. She’s practically begging him for release by the time he’s scraping his teeth across her clit and pushing his fingers more firmly up inside her. Pressure builds at the base of her spine as Ward twists his hand and her orgasm races through her, white noise flaring in her skull as she comes.

 

She barely registers Ward easing her leg to the floor, and it’s not until she feels his thumb tracing her lower lip that she cracks her eyes open and realizes he’s standing in front of her. His chin is still wet from her and he’s got a smile on his face that makes Skye’s stomach flip. She doesn’t even stop to think, lunges forwards and slams her mouth against his, fast and dirty. She can taste herself on his tongue and the satisfaction that races through her is unexpected.

 

She doesn’t really know what makes her pull her shirt off over her head, leaving her standing in nothing more than her bra, but Skye’s fairly certain that Ward stops breathing as he sees the extent of the scar that runs across her right shoulder. His fingers stop a bare inch from her skin, and he waits for her nod before he tracing a path along puckered flesh, a stark contrast to the finely healed wound on her stomach. 

 

“I didn’t know it was this bad.” Ward sounds wretched, and the last thing Skye wants is to have this conversation right now. So she does the only thing she can think of, balling her shirt into her hand and rubbing the wetness off her mouth. She can tell by the way that Ward’s hand falls away from her arm that she’s got his attention. She reaches up and wipes his chin, ignoring the muffled sounds of protest that she’s fairly certain is a demand to talk. 

 

“Well, Ward, my top’s ruined now.” Skye shakes her head sadly at the mess she’s just made of her shirt. “I guess I’m going to need yours.” 

 

Ward’s already shaking his head at her, as though he can’t quite believe that she’s stooped this low. He gives her a look that clearly communicates the fact that this is a subject she’s not going to be able to escape forever. “You can just tell me if you want me naked, Skye.” Ward says this as though he expects her to back down. Sometimes she wonders if he’s ever going to learn.

 

“I want you naked, Grant.” Skye’s reaching up behind her back as she says this, popping the clasp of her bra and letting it drop to the ground. The noise as Ward swallows is gratifyingly audible across the distance between them. Skye raises an eyebrow at him in challenge, but he’s definitely not looking at her face. “See something you like?” It takes him a long moment to drag his eyes up to hers.

 

“You called me Grant.” He says it almost as though it’s a question.

 

“No I didn't.” Skye really doesn’t want to have the conversation about whether this means something. She’s more than aware of the significance of names.

 

Ward narrows his eyes at her in a manner that makes her really wish that she’d managed to hang on to her shirt. “What happened to the truth serum, Skye?” 

 

“Well, clearly it wore off. You’re a smart guy, I’m sure you’ve worked it out.” Skye’s fairly certain that she probably shouldn’t be taunting him right now, but it’s like a reflex and, even in her current state she can’t help herself.

 

“And when, precisely, did that happen?” 

 

“Now is really not the time, Ward.” Skye takes a step closer, even as Ward takes a step back. She realizes that he’s not actually going to let this one go, and it’s her own stupid fault. “When you asked me if I believed that your feelings for me were real, okay?” She doesn’t miss the fact that Ward’s entire demeanor changes, relief that she can basically see. “Now, if you don’t take your clothes off I’m going to do it for you.”

 

“That's honestly supposed to be a threat?” He’s already reaching one hand behind his neck, pulling his shirt over his head in a single smooth motion. 

 

“Yeah, okay, it needs work.” Skye’s voice tails off as she catches sight of the scars on his ribcage for the second time that afternoon. By the time his shirt joins her jeans on the floor, Skye’s managed to focus on something else. 

 

Ward’s hands are busy at the buckle of his belt when he speaks next. "I'm pretty good at threats, I could help with that... if you want." It takes a moment before Skye’s brain registers the words. 

 

“Are you kidding me right now?”

 

“No.” His belt joins the growing pile of clothing by their feet. “I only tell you the truth, remember?”

 

Skye really needs him to stop talking. “Being good at threats is not a turn on, Ward.”

 

“That’s not what you said in India. Or Egypt. Or Bo--”

 

“Okay, fine, you’ve made your point, now take your damn pants off.” Skye’s not proud of the fact that she actually stamps her foot as she says it.

 

“Told you I was good at threats.” The smirk he gives her before he pushes his pants and boxer-briefs to the floor is one of the most outrageous things Skye thinks she’s ever seen. But then he’s naked in front of her and everything else seems unimportant. She relishes his sharp intake of breath as she runs a hand down his torso, mapping ridges and valleys with her fingers.

 

“Skye.” Ward sighs out her name, his hand cupping the back of her head and pulling her towards him. He kisses her gently, as though he’s giving her the chance to change her mind. She answers by wrapping her fingers around his cock twisting her hand as she slides it downwards. Ward’s fingers tighten in her hair, his mouth opening wider, sucking against her tongue, as he bucks his hips against her. 

 

Skye increases the pressure, and Ward’s fist slams hard against the wall by her shoulder as his head drops forwards against hers. She can see his pulse racing, the way his breath catches every time she adjusts her grip, sees him forcing his eyes open to watch her hands on his skin. Ward lifts his head and looks at her, gives her a joyous smile, full of promise that she answers with one of her own. She always wants him to look at her just like this. 

 

Ward’s fingers are suddenly on her wrist, holding her still as he twist his hips away and his cock out of her grasp. It’s the last thing that Skye’s expecting, but she lets Ward lead her towards the chair that she’d entirely forgotten about. 

 

“I’m all for sex up against a wall Skye, but you’ve only just recovered from falling out of a third story window --”

 

“Fourth.” She can’t help herself.

 

“-- and I assume that we’ve both got memories of that bed that we’d rather forget.” Ward just breezes on as though he doesn’t even hear her. Skye’s too busy admiring the view of his ass to really care. Ward turns around then, and Skye doesn’t even bother to pretend that she’s not staring at his dick, curved up towards his stomach, as she catches her bottom lip between her teeth.

 

Ward pulls her down onto his lap as he sits, her legs bracketing his thighs, and she deliberately rocks her hips towards him, sliding her cunt along the hard length of him. Ward hisses out a breath as she does it, and heat unfurls along the length of her spine. He reaches down between them and pushes firmly against her clit, before slipping his fingers through slick folds and sliding them up inside her cunt. She’s so wet that there’s no resistance, and she’s honestly not sure which of them moans the loudest at the sensation.

 

Skye opens her legs wider, uses his shoulders to pull herself closer, and Ward whispers her name against her neck. He sounds completely wrecked already, and Skye’s almost surprised at how delighted the thought of it makes her. That she’s the one making him fall apart. She slides a finger under his chin, tilts his head up to face hers, and presses a kiss against his forehead. She’s pushing up on her toes, Ward sliding his hands under her ass to lift her a little higher, reaching down and guides him into her as she lowers herself onto his cock. 

 

Somehow Skye manages to keep her eyes open, watching the shadows of Ward’s lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he struggles to do the same. She sinks down, eyelids drifting closed at the stretch and slight burn as she takes him deeper. Ward’s pelvis grinds against her clit as he bottoms out and Skye’s glad of the fact that he pauses, giving her time to adjust. She rocks her hips against him, Ward lifting her slightly with every thrust, sending a shudder of pure need racing through her body. She can feel tiny shockwaves skating across her skin, and as he gasps her name she can see them dancing up his arms, across his chest. She wonders if it feels the same for him, as though he’s falling apart at her touch.

 

The sound of ragged breathing fills the air, and Skye gasps his name as he tilts his hips up to meet her. She’s mumbling nonsense against his skin, his voice twining in the air with hers, lips skating erratically across any part of the other’s body they find. The feel of Ward’s cock, thick and hard, fills her completely with every stroke, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Ward struggles to keep his grip on her hips, her skin slick with sweat, as she picks up the pace. She can feel electricity sparking up her spine, heat slowly building low in her stomach, as Ward slips a hand down between them and drags his thumb against her clit.

 

“Grant, fuck.” Vibrations ripple across their bodies, and Ward’s hips stutter as he groans out her name. His fingers are sure though, pressing more firmly against her clit, and she clenches around his cock as he does. She leans against him, kisses him messily, sucking hard at his bottom lip and drags a moan from him as she licks into his mouth. She can hardly breathe around the sensations hitting her from every direction, but she wants to feel the moment that she makes him lose control.

 

Skye somehow manages to grate out his name again as he scrapes a blunt fingernail across her clit. His hips slam against hers, burying himself deep inside her, just the right side of painful. She feels as though she coming apart at the seams, her back arching, liquid fire racing through her veins and galaxies igniting in her blood. Aftershocks scream through her bones and Ward only manages two more stuttering thrusts as she collapses against him, loose limbed and shaky.

 

Ward’s hand drifts up and down her spine, his fingers slipping into the spaces between her ribs as though they belong there. Skye turns her head, bumps her nose against his.

 

“You know we’re stuck down here, right?” Her own voice sounds foreign in her ears.

 

“You’re the one who broke our only way out. I’d remind you of what happened in…”

 

“Rome.” Skye says it along with him, rolling her eyes for emphasis. Ward pauses for a moment, chuckling as he presses his lips to the fine line that arcs across her cheekbone. Skye runs her thumb along the matching scar on his, so faded now that it’s barely visible.

 

“… but it seems kind of rude to bring that up at a time like this.” Ward goes quiet again and Skye settles back against him, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

 

“I was totally winning that fight.” She can’t help herself. And it’s not as though it isn’t true.

 

“You really want to do this now?” Ward’s voice is an odd mix of disbelief and resignation.

 

“Well you can’t run away this time.” Skye twines her arms around his neck to prove her point.

 

“Well you’re not trying to impale me this time so I don’t really feel the same urgency to escape.” Ward’s groan as he realizes his own mistake is music to Skye’s ears.

 

“Yeah, guess you’re not the one getting impaled this time, huh?” Skye slides herself off his lap as she says it, chuckling at her own joke. Ward’s shaking his head as though he can’t quite believe it’s come to this. It takes Skye seven steps to make it to the bed in the corner -- first his, then hers, and now, improbably, theirs. “Want to make some better memories down here?” She spins around as she says it, sits herself firmly down in the center of the bed, ignoring the surge of uncertainty in her gut.

 

“I’m kind of enjoying this role reversal to be honest.” The delivery of Ward’s statement is somewhat marred by the fact that he’s completely naked, scratches crossing his skin at erratic angles, bruises scattered across his shoulders and neck. 

 

“At least I’m considerate enough to be naked for your viewing pleasure.” Skye shakes her head, shooting him a look of utterly insincere disappointment. “Now will you please get over here so we can discuss what happened in Rome?”

 

“Did I mention I love you?” Ward says it with the air of a man resigned to what’s coming next.

 

“Yes. You proved it beautifully. You should probably come over here and show me again though. My memory’s not what it used to be.” Skye’s relieved when he pushes himself to his feet and covers the distance between them.

 

“I missed you.” Ward leans down and kisses her gently. Skye can’t help but think that it feels like coming home.


End file.
